Memoirs of a Geisha is one of my favourite movies to watch, and I’ve watched it countless of times.
I’ve never been a fan of Michelle Yeoh or Zhang Ziyi, but I grew to like them after seeing this.

At the temple, there is a poem called “Loss” carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read Loss, only feel it.

Water is powerful. It can wash away earth, put out fire, and even destroy iron.

She paints her face to hide her face. Her eyes are deep water. It is not for Geisha to want. It is not for geisha to feel. Geisha is an artist of the floating world. She dances, she sings. She entertains you, whatever you want. The rest is shadows, the rest is secret.

We must not expect happiness, Sayuri. It is not something we deserve. When life goes well, it is a sudden gift; it cannot last forever…

I could be her. Were we so different? She loved once. She hoped once. I could be her.

The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves. Until one day there are none.

You cannot say to the sun, “More sun.” Or to the rain, “Less rain.” To a man, geisha can only be half a wife. We are the wives of nightfall.

When I was 14, I remember being taught that civilization either change or adapt to their surroundings. I have never believed in changes. Adapting was a more convenient (read: lazy) option, which might also allow me to keep some pride and not to compromise myself too much.

Well, it’s bullshit. It doesn’t matter how you choose to respond, because it was never much a choice for you to make anyways. Whenever change happens, you just have to adapt to it. And when you adapt to something, there will be some sort of alteration from the norm.

Before I got into my current relationship, I enjoyed the liberation of singlehood (not that I’m commitment-phobic, I was just fine on my own), and I lead an enjoyable, routined life. After I met my girlfriend though, I’ve learnt not to need routines. She was my constant, my balance, my rhythm, my centre of gravity to how I lead my life.

Since she left, I’ve been trying to get back my routined life. Step one is always organization. Making everything neat and tidy, in hopes that it may translate to having my life back in order. Which is hard. Especially when I can hardly call myself a student now and I’m 100% unemployed. I know there are good changes too, but I just don’t feel like it.

Changes, whether it’s something entirely new or something I’ve known before, is not easy.

I don’t know… Maybe it’s PMS or just side-effects to adaption. I will eventually snap out of it. Hardest part is to start something, I just need to find my momentum.